Chapter 7

The day before Tracy's funeral, Nora signed the transfer papers for Mason, who was still bedridden. She arranged for him to be moved to another hospital.

Her family was gone. The so-called five-year marriage contract no longer meant anything.

On the day of the funeral, the sky hung low and gray, and a thin, cold rain drifted through the air.

Lucas arrived with Gavin, Violet, and a crowd of relatives from the Jameson family.

His expression was flat and distant, without a trace of guilt.

The officiant had just finished reading the eulogy and was about to move on to the next part of the service when a figure appeared in the doorway of the chapel. He wore a black clerical collar and carried a worn leather Bible.

Violet turned and caught sight of him. The color drained from her face, and she stood up in shock.

She asked, "Father Michael? What are you doing here?"

Michael was a clergyman the Jameson family had known for years.

Back when they wanted to find out who could bring Lucas good fortune and help them choose the right marriage match, he was the one they had called upon.

Michael clutched his Bible to his chest and bowed slightly to Violet. "Mrs. Jameson, it's been a while."

He paused, and his voice dropped low. "I've come today to confess. Years ago, I deceived your family."

The words landed like a stone thrown into still water.

Gavin's brow furrowed, and his voice came out sharp. "What do you mean by that, Father?"

Michael lifted his gaze and spoke slowly. "Back then, my most beloved apprentice fell gravely ill. He needed a large sum of money for treatment, or he wouldn't survive."

He turned toward the altar and raised one hand toward the black-and-white portrait of Tracy that sat among the flowers. "This woman paid for everything. She covered every cent of his medical bills."

Michael spoke in a low, solemn voice. "She came to me with one request.

"She asked me to lie and tell your family that Ms. Quinn would bring misfortune to Mr. Lucas Jameson, and to claim that Ms. Nora Evans was the one who would bring him prosperity and bless the Jameson family."

The moment those words left his mouth, the entire Jameson family erupted into chaos.

Nora lunged forward, her whole body trembling with rage. She shouted, "That's a lie!" She pointed at him and snapped, "My mother was a good and honest woman. She would never do something like that."

But Michael paid no attention to her outburst.

He spoke in a low, steady voice. "To save my apprentice, I broke my sacred vows and violated the laws of my order."

He lowered his gaze and continued, "For years, the guilt has eaten away at me, every single day.

"I received a vision recently, and through it, I learned that Mrs. Evans suffered divine punishment for the lie she told all those years ago. She died carrying that sin, and her bitterness followed her to the grave.

"Her spirit is restless. She will come for every last member of the Jameson family, and she will make each of you pay.

"I've come to make right what I helped set wrong, and to break this curse before it consumes you all."

Nora clenched her jaw, her eyes bloodshot as she glared at him. She hissed, "You're lying. Claire put you up to this, didn't she? It was her. Wasn't it?"

Michael slowly shook his head, his voice firm. "I already broke my vow once. I will not break another. Not in this life."

The Jamesons had always been deeply devout, the kind of family that believed in divine judgment, spiritual consequence, and the wrath of God.

So, the moment they heard that Tracy's spirit would pursue them, the color drained from their faces.

One of them begged, "Father, please. You have to help us. There must be something you can do to save the Jameson family."

Michael stroked his beard, and his expression turned grave.

He said, "There is a way to break the curse, and it is simple.

He continued, "We take the urn and soak the ashes in pig's blood. Then we scatter them into the drainage gutter behind the church, where the filth and waste collect.

"Once that is done, her spirit will be bound and crushed beneath the weight of that defilement.

"She will never break free, and she will never torment anyone in the Jameson family again."

Nora trembled with rage, every nerve in her body screaming at her to lunge forward and tear the fraud apart.

Her voice cracked as she asked, "My mother is already dead, and you still want to desecrate her remains like this? How can you be so heartless? Aren't you afraid God will strike you down for this?"

Lucas stood off to the side, and his face had gone terrifyingly dark.

Tracy had used such a filthy, despicable scheme to drive a wedge between him and Claire.

The disgust and fury churning in his chest finally boiled over.

He ordered, "Hold her down."

Two bodyguards stepped forward immediately and seized Nora by both arms.

Nora struggled against their grip and pleaded, "Lucas, don't do this. I'm begging you. You've never believed in any of this. Think clearly for one second."

Her voice broke as she said, "You can't just take this priest's word and pin everything on my mother."

Lucas looked down at her, and there was not a shred of mercy in his eyes.

Nora refused to give up. She turned desperately toward Violet.

She cried, "Violet, please, wake up and see what's happening."

She pointed at Michael and said, "Father Michael has known your family for years. My mother was just an ordinary woman. How could she possibly have bought him off?"

Tears streamed down her face as she begged, "The dead deserve dignity. Please, I'm begging all of you, don't do this to her ashes. Just let her rest in peace."

But the Jamesons had already been frightened out of their minds by the talk of a vengeful spirit.

No one acknowledged her pleas, and every face in the room showed nothing but cold urgency.

The moment came. A man reached for the urn and prepared to pour the ashes into the pig's blood.

Nora summoned every last ounce of strength in her body.

She wrenched free from the bodyguards and threw herself forward, snatching Tracy's urn into her arms.

She barely made it two steps before a powerful hand locked around her wrist and held her in place.

It was Lucas.

She clutched the urn to her chest and sobbed, "I'm begging you, Lucas. Please, just spare my mother.

"Punish me however you want. Beat me, curse me, or even kill me. I'll take all of it.

"This was all my doing. I'm the one who wanted to marry into the Jameson family. My mother had nothing to do with it. She had nothing to do with any of this."

Lucas watched her fall apart, and his eyes showed nothing. Not a flicker of sympathy. Not a trace of emotion.

He pried her fingers off the urn one by one, forcing her grip loose with cold precision.

He said, "Relax. Whatever your mother did, I won't take it out on you. Nothing changes between us. We go on like before."

The moment he ripped the urn from her arms, something inside Nora went hollow.

Her cries echoed down the funeral hall corridor, raw and desperate, each sob tearing itself from her throat as she begged him to stop.

But all she could do was watch as Tracy's ashes were poured, handful by handful, into that basin of filthy blood.

Nora screamed. The sound was barely human.

Claire had killed Tracy.

And now, even in death, the Jameson family wouldn't let her rest. They desecrated her remains and trampled her memory into nothing.

She couldn't save her. She couldn't do a single thing.

She whispered, "Lucas, I hate you."

The hatred coiled around her heart like poison ivy, tightening with every breath.

Lucas spoke calmly, "Your mother used despicable methods to deceive the Jameson family. That much is true. But our marriage is legal. It's real. I'll treat you better from now on. We'll make this work."

Nora listened, and a faint, ice-cold smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

She would send Mason to the best treatment facility overseas and ensure he received the care he needed.

Then she would board a plane herself.

She would come back.

And when she did, she would collect on this blood debt, every last drop, with interest.